What The Heck Is Middle Earth?
by constellationoftears
Summary: Self-insert. Alyxandria Harrows wakes up one sunny morning in the middle of the Shire. She doesn't know where she is or how she got there, and by mere luck and chance she ends up tagging along with Thorin Oakenshield's ragtag band of dwarves. What's a socially-awkward teenager to do? OC/? (You decide! Poll up on profile)


**Herro dere. This is going to hopefully be different from all the other fics out there, because it's a self-insert. Meaning that the character in the story is me, more or less, just with a different name. I'll try not to Mary-Sue the crap out of it, but what happens happens. Whatever the character can and can't do corresponds with what I can and can't do.**

**Oh! There's a poll up on my profile too, because you guys are gonna decide who I end up with romantically. Yes. I am pairing myself up with fictional character because what kind of fic would it be without romance?**

**Ahem. Let the story begin!**

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CHAPTER ONE - What The Hell Is Middle Earth?!

It's warm. A little too warm, actually. It's like the sun is shining right on me, instead of just through my curtains. Maybe Mom opened my window.

I roll over, trying to kick the heavy covers off of me. Only, there's a slight problem. I open my eyes sleepily.

There are no covers.

And I'm laying outside. In the grass. In a place I've never seen in my whole life.

WTH.

I squint against the harsh yellow sun and look around, studying my surroundings. There are trees and grass and little houses and huts everywhere. Some homes are built into the gently rolling hills, just little round windows and doors peeking out from the fresh green of the grass. My heart starts hammering in my chest as soon as I realize that I really don't know where I am. I'm in my pajamas, lying on the ground, with no idea how I got here - where ever 'here' is - and no idea how to get back.

Holy hell.

My throat squeezes shut and I feel like crying. I just want to be home. Watch this all be a freaky dream. A freaky, vivid, lifelike dream. I reach up to pinch myself, hard. So hard that I squeal. And yet, nothing happens. Damn.

That's when the tears actually do fall. Not for long, just a few seconds. But I'm scared. I need something familiar, something I know. This land is definitely not familiar.

A sudden thought comes to mind, sparking my hope. My phone! I can call home and explain my predicament. It seems so flawless, and I reach behind me to pull it out of my back pocket. Only...

...I'm in my pjs. There aren't any pockets, and thus there is no phone. Only smooth purple and white plaid cotton.

That's it. I'm screwed.

I stagger to my feet. Maybe I can find someone to help me. Surely the people living in a place this nice are nice, too. Now, which house should I go to? Usually I'm a very shy person, and don't even like going to the check-out line at the store, but this is a huge damn problem. Even my insecurity isn't going to stop me from figuring out where the hell I am, and why I'm here.

I look around at the houses. They're all nice, but one in particular catches my eye. It's at the end of the path that I woke up on, fenced in with neat white picket fencing and sporting a well-manicured garden. If that doesn't shout 'old people' then I don't know what does, and old people would be particularly helpful in this situation, because old people are nice. And that's what makes up my mind. I start heading towards the house, built into the tall hill above it. I let myself inside the gate and pad up in my sock feet to the door. It's perfectly round and green, which strikes me as a little odd, with a small brass doorknob right in the middle of it, but I shrug it off as typical old people weirdness and knock. I barely have a chance to rethink my actions - what if they're rapists or something? - before the wooden door swings open and in front of me stands a little person.

I'm not exaggerating when I say little. He's, like, four feet tall, if even that. The surprise on his face would be comical, if not for the unfortunate circumstances, with his mouth put in an 'O' shape and his eyebrows lost beneath his curly copper-colored hair. He looks up at me.

"Um... Hi," I start shakily. This is definitely not an old person. He's actually an abnormally short, semi-attractive man. What? "I-I need help." He furrows his brow. "Uhh, I kinda just...woke up here. Well, over there. B-but I don't know where I am or how I got here, and, well, I just need somewhere to stay until I figure out what happened." Oh, that was smooth. Real smooth.

The short man gasps. He opens the door and ushers me inside. "Oh, my. You just woke up out there? Of course you can stay here until you're rested and well. Here, sit and I'll bring you some tea. Do you like tea?" I nod, so, so grateful to this stranger for doing this.

"Yes, please." I feel a bit awkward stepping into his home and being catered to, but sit down nonetheless and wait for my tea.

qI shiver, though from the slightly chilly air in the house or from the shock of my situation I can't tell. Looking down, I realize with a gasp that I'm dressed in a plain white tank top that cuts way too low to be acceptable in public. Oh, crap.

I barely have time to panic when the short guy comes into the room I'm in with a cup of steaming hot tea. He hands it to me carefully and I accept it, giving him a tired, grateful smile.

"Watch out, it's hot," he states. I nod and hold it, waiting for it to cool off a bit.

"So what exactly happened?" the guy asks. I look sideways at him as he sits in a chair to the side of me.

"Um, I don't know. I just woke up and was kinda here. I don't know how or why." He looks deep in thought, contemplating my strange arrival. I glance down at myself again, blushing. "Um, you wouldn't happen to have a blanket or jacket or something I could use to, you know..." He looks up and catches on immediately. His face turns a faint red color.

"Oh, oh yes. Just one moment." He scurried off down a hallway.

I take the time to appreciate his house. It is very nice, decorated with lots of antique things and so clean and tidy that it makes me uncomfortable. I come from a big family of four kids, including myself, so clean's never really an option at home.

Home. Being a teenager, I have a rebellious spirit that makes my parents want to pull their hair out nearly all the time. I always get into yelling matches with my parents, sometimes just for the adrenaline rush. I can honestly say that I never completely liked living in our house, but sitting here now in some dude's living room, with no clue where I am, I would give anything to be back home. Even getting screamed at for my C in English or chided because I didn't do the dishes seems better than this predicament.

The guy returns with a brown blanket and hands it to me, respectfully keeping his eyes above my head. I take it and smile again.

"Thank you so much, Mister..." I don't even know this guy's name.

"Bilbo Baggins, at your service." Oh. How do I respond to that?

"Alyxandria Harrows at yours." That sounds right. Very nice, Alyx. Very nice.

"Ah, an...interesting name." Bilbo blinks in thought. "Well I do believe that it's time for me to go out for a smoke. You wouldn't mind, would you?" I shake my head. "Well then. If you feel tired there is a guest bedroom just down the hall, third door to the left. Help yourself in terms of food. I won't be but a few minutes." With that he turns and exits through the door that I just came in.

I start sipping my tea, which has cooled to a reasonable temperature by now. It's still hot and the lemon and honey flavor soothes my throat. I smile. Just how I like it.

I sit and think. Well, at least I know who I'm with. Bilbo Baggins. Hmm, what a weird name. But I must admit, his hospitality is much appreciated. Now... I just need to figure out where the hell I am. Is there any way o could contact my parents? My phone is out of the question, but maybe Bilbo has one. Hey! That's a good idea. I'll ask him if he has a phone.

But... I don't know. He seems very old-timey. I mean, his clothes are waaay, like, old. Very fancy and proper. No one wears that stuff anymore. That's when a chilling thought sends a shiver down my spine.

What if I'm not even in the same world? Like a dimension-hop? Ten minutes ago I would have deemed that impossible, laughed it off. But now... Well, I'm not sure.

A sudden fatigue washes over my body and I set my cup, now empty, on the small wooden table next to me. I stagger to my feet, walking down the hallway. Aha, this is the door. Third to the left, I think he said. I open the door and see a small bed and nightstand. That's about it, actually. Just a bed and nightstand. It's cozy and uncrowded which is nice.

I close the door behind me and flop onto the bed. I don't even have to pull the covers over me before I'm sleeping like a baby.

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**And that is all! Please review, I like feedback! Also, don't forget to visit the poll on my profile. My love life is in your hands heh heh *im so screwed***

**Until later lovely readers 3 **


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